I Love You, I'll Kill You

I waited for what felt like ten minutes for Desmond to explain to me what was going on. He was a procrastinating, taking a cigarette and lighter out of his front pant pocket. He put the nasty stick in his mouth, followed by the lovely fire that lit it. He took an inhale of the smoke, and then released it through his nose. I could tell that he was trying to look like he was at ease, but he was actually on edge. I don't know how I noticed, but it was almost as if I knew how he was feeling, or that I was expecting as much from him.

I cleared my throat, aggravation slowly seeping into plain sight. "You're really good at annoying people, did you know that?" I muttered, knowing that he would hear it.

He took another deep inhale of smoke before letting it leave his mouth. He glanced at me with a bored expression. "Yup, and I'm enjoying it.” I wanted to slam my foot on the ground and pout like a little girl, but I held back the impulse. Instead, I glared at him as he continued to smoke his cigarette and pretend that Shayne and I weren't there. I could tell that Shayne was losing his patience as well.

"Grace, come on. Let's leave him to his smoking. He's obviously not going to explain anything too soon," Shayne said, holding out his hand out to me. I looked at his held-out hand for a long moment, not sure what to do. I wanted to take it, but was afraid for some reason. It's one of those moments where your conscience suddenly kicks in and starts speaking things, making you more confused than you were before.

"Knock it off, Shayne," Desmond said, finishing his cigarette and throwing it to the ground. "I'll tell her all she wants to know when we get home. Besides, don't you have your pack to worry about? What do they think of her? They probably think she's untrustworthy and is working for me."

Shayne shook his head, almost as if he were shaking the idea from his head. "I don't believe they think anything of the sort." He sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than Desmond.

Desmond turned his blank gaze to Shayne, almost knowing that he had a look of denial in his eyes. "Are you so sure? What about Troy?" he asked.

Shayne's eyes dropped to the ground. Desmond had hit home, whatever it was. "Troy doesn't trust anybody—you already know this." Shayne sounded as if he were pouting.

Desmond smirked at his reply. "Still haven't found the power to defeat him, have you?" he asked.

Shayne didn't reply, but turned his gaze to me instead. His eyes connected with mine, and I fell into a trance. I felt a shiver of excitement chase down my spine, making goose bumps appear all over my skin. It wasn't until then that I realized that Shayne and Desmond had the exact same eye color. They both had a rich copper color, something that would entrance almost anybody. And it wasn't only their eye color, but their appearances. They both had beautiful structured faces, things that were very hard to find. Desmond's hair was longer and dark brown, whereas Shayne had short, light copper hair. But other than the hair, they could pass as brothers. It was a scary thought, but one that seemed realistic.

"No," he replied after a long moment of staring at me.

I broke eye contact as soon as he blinked, moving my gaze to something less distracting. That something was Joshua, who was walking down the steps of the porch behind Shayne. When I had met no more than a half an hour ago, he couldn't keep a smile off his face. Now it seemed as if it were the exact opposite. His face was almost as plain as Desmond's or Shayne's; completely wiped of emotion. His hair was wet and now cleaned of the goops of gel that he had used to spike his hair earlier. His green-brown eyes connected with mine, and I could see the kindness hidden behind his defensive and blank face. He was acting, pretending to be the tough guy in front of Desmond, but I could tell that what he really wanted to do was to smile and say something like 'Come play a game of poker with me, Grace.' The words weren't going to come out as long as Desmond was here in front of their house.

I looked past Shayne and Joshua to see Eric, the blond, standing in the entrance of the door, leaning against the doorframe. I glanced to Desmond, and then to Shayne. They were having another one of their staring contests. I shook my head and began to make my way past them. I brushed past Joshua and made it to the second step of the porch before I heard someone call to me.

"Grace, just where do you think you're going?" Desmond asked just loud enough so that I heard him.

I paused and turned slightly, enough to show him my face. "I am waiting inside until you two stop fighting. My ankle is killing me, and the house looks rather inviting right now," I replied.

He lifted an eyebrow, as if he didn't believe the words that had come from my mouth. "Inviting?" he questioned.

I nodded my head. "I'm tired of standing out in the cold. And it doesn't look like you two are going to be done any time soon," I explained. I turned back and continued on my way up the stairs, limping ever so slightly.

Eric greeted me with a smile when I made it to the door. "Let's finish taking care of your ankle. I'm sure it's more swollen by now," he joked.

I went along with him as I walked into the house. "Without a doubt. I think it's about to fall off."

He laughed at that. He offered me his arm and led me into the house. I stopped, tugging him with me when I looked at the many steps that led to the second floor. Eric smiled and lifted me up into his arms before I could complain, let alone open my mouth.

"You're good at reading minds," I commented as I wrapped my arms around his shoulder, worried that he would drop me.

He smiled. "The look on your face gave you away," he said. He carried me into the room I was in before, which was Shayne's room. He set me on the large bed, making sure I was comfortable before leaving to get some supplies. I touched Shayne's unmade bed, feeling the soft fabric.

What a strange and long night. I kept thinking to myself as I remembered the night's events. I had run from Desmond's house, or what I assumed was his house, and escaped into the dark and supposedly dangerous woods. Then I fall and almost break my ankle, soon to be found by a gorgeous young man. Now—here I was—sitting on his bed, rethinking of all that had happened within a few hours.

"Here we go," Eric said, appearing in the doorway and knocking me out of my thoughts. He had a whole arm full of bandages and antiseptics.

I raised my eyebrow at him. "A bit much, don't you think?" I asked.

He chuckled as he dropped everything on the bed, bending down on his knees. "Yeah, but I have no idea what to use. We don't even use any of this stuff—we have no reason to," he said.

"What do you mean you don't have any reason to use this stuff? If you have an injury, don't you use this stuff to clean it?" I asked.

He shook his head. "We heal better without all these antiseptics. Besides, if the wounds really were bad, we would just lick them. That's the up-side of being what we are; we can heal better than any other supernatural being," he explained, but it only left me even more confused. My face probably looked as lost as ever. He worked on my foot as I tried to gather all the information.

"Supernatural? You're speaking as if you're not human," I said, unsure of what to say.

He looked up from his work and stared straight at me with a blank look. "Well, we are human, but not human at the same time. Lycanthropy is a pretty complex subject," he said, returning to his work.

"Lycanthropy? Where have I heard of that before?" I asked myself, looking up to the ceiling for answers.

"A lot of people have heard of it. It's not uncommon now days to run into a werewolf, or were-animal for that matter."

I blinked, collecting all of the information. "So you're a werewolf?"

He nodded his head as he finished cleaning the mud off my ankle and started wrapping a bandage around it. "So are the rest of the people who live in this house. Though the legends they speak of our kind aren’t completely true. It is true that we were-animals have trouble controlling our instincts during the full moon, but we don’t have to change. We can change into our animal form whenever we want. But it takes a few hours before we are able to change back into our human forms, except for those of our kind who have greater power. Those who are stronger can change whenever they want."

I asked the question that quickly came to mind. "Is Desmond a werewolf?"

Eric snorted loudly while shaking his head. "Are you kidding me? That thing is as far from being a were-animal as can be." He had dark humor hidden in the back of his voice, distaste. Why was it that he disliked Desmond so much?

"How is he different from you? I'm guessing he's not human."

He snorted again. "You guessed right. He's not even alive. No, he's very different from us. He is neither living nor dead, which is why our kind despises his kind. His kind feed off humans and other creatures, killing them some of the time. That's why we're all surprised that he came here looking for you. Our first thought was that he came here to attack you and kill you, but from the looks of it, that doesn't seem to be the case." He finished wrapping the bandage around my ankle, and began to clean up his mess off of Shayne's bed.

I didn't reply to his comments, but stared at my ankle instead, trying to figure it all out. Desmond didn't seem to want to kill me, so I was safe with that thought. And Eric had explained that werewolves didn't like whatever Desmond was because he killed humans and other creatures. But what was he?

Before Eric could walk out of the room, I caught his attention. "Eric, what is Desmond, exactly?"

He paused for a long moment, staring at me with warm eyes, but with a dark look on his face. He really didn't like Desmond, and it showed on his face. If he could, I was sure he would stick a spoon in his mouth and try to gag himself. "He's a bloodsucker, a vampire, if you prefer." He turned without another word, and left me sitting on the bed to stare at the spot where he was standing.

I sighed louder than necessary, leaning back until my back was against the warm covers of the bed. I brushed a hand through my knotted hair, wishing that I had a hairbrush. My body felt sweaty and dirty, and it probably smelled just as bad. I had taken a shower earlier, but now I was covered in dirt. I laughed to myself when I pictured myself with a muddy face and twigs sticking out of my hair. I moved my ankle a tiny bit, and was pleased when it didn't hurt. How had so much happened when so little time had passed? I sighed again, pushing myself onto the bed so that my legs no longer hung off the end of the bed. I wanted to roll into a little ball, but found no power. Within seconds of lying down, I felt the exhaustion pressed upon me, forcing me into that dark world of sleep.

*******

My pleasant and dreamless sleep was interrupted when I heard two voices arguing no less than five feet away from the foot of the bed. I groaned, pulling the pillow at the top of the bed over my head, trying my best to drown out the loudness.

"How can I trust a thing like you to just simply take her away and not drink her dry?"

"You can't, which is exactly why we are going nowhere with this conversation. You don't trust me, and I don't trust you. This leaves us in quite a predicament since you seem to be so attached to her already."

"I'm not attached, just worried for her safety. And you seem to be just a relentless as I."

"That's because it's my duty and desire to keep her safe from mutts like you."

"We're back to name calling again? I thought we finished that five minutes ago."

I couldn't handle it any longer. I snapped up on the bed, pillow in hand, and threw it where I guessed where they were. I hit right on target. The pillow dropped to the floor and revealed the puzzled faces of Desmond and Shayne. They had been standing close to each other, trying to intimidate the other. They were both the same height, so it was pointless for them to fight over who was taller. Their eyes turned to me when they realized I was the one who had thrown the pillow. I glared at them with menace, unable to hold back the annoyance of being awoken with them fighting…again!

"You two are absolutely ridiculous! You can't find anything better to do than fight? Give me a break. You two sound like kids fighting over a piece of candy. Grow up!" I shouted, trying to adjust to the lighting of the room. The lights were so bright that I was sure I would be blinded. Desmond and Shayne glanced to each other, as if looking for the answer on one another's face, but they quickly turned away and back to me. I sighed, shaking my head as I gathered my bearings before I decided to stand. I glanced to them to see both their eyes on me. "What? Now you're both quiet?"

Neither of them replied, but continued to stare at me with blank looks. I shook my head as I climbed off the large bed. They were both standing in the doorway, so I had to push them out so I could pass. They both seemed confused as I walked past them, down the hall, and down the stairs. They both just watched in confusion as I pretended like they didn't exist. Good. It was time for them to start thinking about other people rather than bickering every moment. When I reached the bottom of the stairs, all eyes turned to me. All of the young men I had met only hours ago, minus Troy, were sitting in the large living room, watching television. I wasn't going to complain that Troy wasn't in the room. I hadn't received anything from him but a dark glare that clearly said he didn't like me.

Craig—one of the werewolves that were fighting over food in the kitchen earlier—stood as soon as I walked into the room. His black hair was almost covering his eyes, making him look mysterious in a few ways. He had changed his ripped pants into something less shredded, but was still shirtless like the last time I had seen him. He smiled at me, pushing his hair from his eyes, and I almost gasped at their color. I had gray eyes with a little green, but he had real gray eyes. Without knowing it, I had taken a step away from him in surprise, but he took it the wrong way.

His kind smile had dropped into a frown, unpleased by my reaction. "Do I frighten you?" he asked.

I shook my head with wide eyes, unable to keep my eyes from his. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you; it's just that you have such...gray eyes that took me by surprise," I stuttered a bit, but made it through the sentence.

His smile returned, happy with my reply. "Ah, yes, the eyes," he began, flashing his eyes at me a second time as if he had done it a million times before. "It isn't very common for werewolves or humans to have this eye color. Yet you are surprised by my eye color when your eyes are almost as gray. Though, I must admit that little bit of green in yours is catchy," he commented with a sly smirk.

For one reason or another, I had a feeling Craig was hitting on me. I pretended like it didn't matter and returned the small smile. "Thanks, I guess." I didn't want to be too kind.

"Craig, leave the poor girl alone. She's already had to deal with two yapping males who are fighting over who gets to take her home already," Joshua, the clown of the house, shouted over the television.

I looked around the room and found a clock hanging on the far wall. I gawked at it when it read 4:30 a.m. "Is that time correct?" I asked.

All six pair of eyes glanced to the wall at the same time. "Yeah," Derek, Joshua's twin, replied with some emotion, but not a lot. I was actually surprised to hear him reply before any of the others. He was the exact opposite of his brother when it came to personality. When he had replied, everyone's eyes turned to him.

"It speaks," Joshua mocked his brother as they sat on the couch. It amazed me how five large and muscled guys could sit on one couch. The couch was fair sized, but didn't look big enough to fit them, let alone five.

"I'm sure Shayne and—what’s his name—will be down in any minute. The vampire needs to get somewhere where he can hide before the sun comes up, which should be less than a half an hour," Matt, the auburn haired fellow who was still sitting on the floor next to Eric, tried his best not to insult Desmond. His dark eyes connected with mine, and I felt that he was trying to beg me with his eyes to make Desmond leave. Out of all of the werewolves in the room, he looked like he was most tense and guarded of the group. He didn't trust vampires at all, and I could tell that just from a single glance.

I nodded my head as if he had said something. I turned when I heard footsteps coming down the stairs. Desmond was the first to come down the stairs, followed by Shayne. Both of them had serious masks on their faces when they entered the room.

Desmond opened the front door and held out his hand to me. "Come on, Grace. Let's get home before it's too late for me to be outside. I really don't wish to linger here any longer," he said.

I glanced to him, and then to Shayne who stood behind me. He had a tired, but sad look on his face, as if he had been defeated after a long struggle. "What's going on?" I asked before I took his hand.

Desmond glanced behind me to Shayne for a moment before returning back to me. "Shayne understands that you need to be with me," he answered reluctantly. Shayne's gaze dropped to the ground, trying to hide the emotions in his eyes as Desmond spoke.

"Okay," I said, not knowing what else to say. I turned and waved to the group of werewolves. Surprisingly, they all returned the gesture. I began to walk past Shayne, but turned suddenly and threw myself against him for a hug. He staggered for second, taken aback by my actions. I wrapped my arms around his large body, giving him a big hug. He slowly returned it, as if unsure of what to do. "Thank you, for everything," I whispered into his chest.

I felt him smile as he tightened his hold around me when he said, "You're welcome,"

I pulled away and smiled up at him. He was taller than I would ever be. "I'll see you again?" I asked.

His smiled widened, and he nodded his head. "That was part of our deal," he said, glancing to Desmond. I had a feeling that most of the people in the room were smiling, but I knew that Desmond was not one of them. When I turned, I saw him glaring over me and to Shayne. I grabbed his hand, knocking him out of his glaring contest with Shayne. As soon as his eyes turned to me, they softened somewhat.

He sighed as he shook his hand, lifting me up into his arm with a single sweep. "I don't know why I deal with this," he mumbled, walking out the front door and into the misty morning. We had but a small amount of time before the sun would show its bright and shining colors.

"You got me there," I agreed, hoping I would get a smile from him. I succeeded. I glanced over his shoulder and waved to Shayne as he stood in the doorway. He smirked and waved back.

"Now all we have to do is get back before the sun comes up, right?" I asked.

I felt Desmond's hold on me tense. "I take it that someone told you?"

I nodded as I heard the door close behind us. "Think we'll make it?" He smirked at my question. It was my turn to tense. Something about his smile sent shivers down my spine now that I knew what he was.